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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29104512">Traveling Companion Series: Haunting of Castle Malloy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/burgermeister_meisterburger/pseuds/burgermeister_meisterburger'>burgermeister_meisterburger</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Nancy Drew (Video Games), Nancy Drew - Fandom, Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys Super Mysteries - Franklin W. Dixon &amp; Carolyn Keene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banshees, Clue Crew, F/M, Fae &amp; Fairies, Irish Folklore, Kidnapping, Mystery, Unrequited Love, WWII</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:00:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29104512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/burgermeister_meisterburger/pseuds/burgermeister_meisterburger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>To help in Ned's quest to get Henry out and about more with good company, Nancy convinces Henry Bolet Jr. to tag along on her trip to Castle Malloy as a plus one to Kyler Mallory's wedding. What was supposed to be a short trip full of photos and Irish cuisine turns into a nightmare when the two find the groom-to-be has gone missing in a castle with a history darker than anyone realized.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kit Foley/Kyler Mallory, Kyler Mallory/Matt Simmons, Nancy Drew/Ned Nickerson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Crash</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by the many prompts of daretosnoop's Traveling Companion Series on Tumblr and my own visit to the Emerald Isle. Go check them out at https://daretosnoop.tumblr.com/ !</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh, shoot,” Nancy muttered to herself. She started feeling for her phone in her pocket. Henry looked up from one of the armload of travel guides he’d picked up earlier—it looked like the one of haunted sites. His eyes had lit up upon reading about the abandoned abbeys riddling the Irish countryside, home now only to the wooly sheep who grazed around them. Nancy wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if all his luggage consisted of nothing but cameras.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s up?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I forgot to call Ned and tell him we landed,” replied Nancy absently as she tried to one hand dial and steer. She paused when she saw she was starting to coast towards the lines down the middle of the little back road.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oookay, how about you steer and I dial,” winced Henry, slipping Nancy’s phone from her hands before she could finish dialing. His deep red nails—professionally painted this time for the wedding to match his suit—finished dialing the familiar number with the ease.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It rang once on speaker before a missed soft voice answered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey Ned,” said Nancy, “Just calling to let you know we made it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You won’t believe how green everything is, even at night,” said Henry, eyes tracking the open countryside to his left.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I bet. What kind of car did they give you this time?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“An automatic. We asked extra nicely beforehand if they could save us one so Henry can take the car out himself if he wants, though he seems leery of the left side driving.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey,” said Henry defensively, “It’s not my fault Uncle never let me touch the Aston Martin. Or taught me stick shift at all. Or took me driving in Europe.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…but you own the Aston Martin now,” said Ned slowly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The last time anyone touched something my uncle owned Nancy found an Indiana Jones crystal skull in the Chamber of Secrets under my uncle’s crypt. Forgive me if I’m reluctant to touch my inheritance again without a SWAT team on stand-by.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ned laughed. “That’s fair.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry looked at Nancy curiously. “They give you a stick-shift last time?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy glanced at the little hand drawn map on the center console she had scribbled out while on the phone with Kyler. Henry shuffled the phone to pick up the map and hold it up higher to read. “When I went to visit the Pevellyn family, yeah,” she said as she made the next turn. “Most folks here grow up learning manual instead of automatic, so they kinda forget a lot of American tourists tend to only know automatic.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Find your luggage okay?” asked Ned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yup, it’s all squared away. Fingers crossed for the return,” she chirped. Henry looked confused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Have you actually lost your luggage before?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy smiled sheepishly. “Couple times. But my roommate had a lot of spare clothes, so it wasn’t a big deal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Through the fog, the peaks of a tower was silhouetted in the obscured moonlight. Henry wordlessly smiled and leaned forward in his seat to look out the windshield, clearly enraptured. Though dark, it was still obvious to Nancy that the sallow under his eyes that had at first seemed an inherited tired nature, had finally started to fade.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So your plane was on time, your luggage arrived, your rental car was waiting—everything went off without a hitch?” asked Ned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yup, and according to Kyler’s directions we’re within two kilometers of Castle Malloy. Now stop worrying about us and get over to the Dunhils’. What time is it there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Around two. The party just started and it’s gonna go all day, so I’ve got plenty of time.” Ned paused, Nancy’s words finally clicking. “Are you…driving?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m holding the phone,“ assured Henry, shooting Nancy a look. Nancy couldn’t help the impish grin she shot back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“On the plus side, there’s absolutely no traffic, so we made pretty good time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The street got darker as a thicket obscured the faint cast of moonlight. “I think those are the gates,” pointed Henry to the tall shadows getting closer. Nancy started to decelerate as she saw what looked like the silvery light of a lamppost near the gate.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We gotta go. Say hi to the Dunhils for us,” said Nancy. “And have <em>fun</em>,” she ordered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And wear sunblock!” shouted Henry as he started to shuffle the bags at his feet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Without you guys? Yeah right. Take care, you two.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A beam of light—a figure—something—screeched across the front of the car. Fear seized Nancy at the sight of the unknown, slamming on the breaks and swerving to miss. Her heart leapt to her throat as the car was suddenly out of her control, sliding on the peat down the road, breaks and steering wheel useless. She almost had the wind knocked out of her when Henry’s hand slammed up against her chest to brace her, the car crunching at it hit the shoulder and finally jerked to a hard stop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two remained still, Nancy’s knuckles white on the steering wheel and their combined breaths shallow. Henry spoke slowly, voice raspy. “Are you okay?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah…I think so.” She had to practically pry her fingers from the wheel. “You?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Groovy,” he half laughed, though he looked whiter than a ghost. “Did you hit your head? How’s your neck?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy half wondered if she had missed knocking her head as she ran a perfunctory touch through her hair, but no goose eggs throbbed. After Henry turned on the interior lights to check her pupils it quietly occurred to her it might have been his mother he was imagining in her stead. “I think I’m okay, Henry...” she reassured with a squeeze of his arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re the same woman who after being assaulted and hitting her head on the floor immediately got up to chase a mystery man in a Death costume,” he muttered as he got out of the car. “Forgive me for exercising a little more caution this time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her own door opened easily, though it took a second longer to stand thanks to the locking of the seatbelts. Her legs felt like jelly and tingly with nerves as she stood, though nothing hurt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Solid ground, not bog,” sighed Henry from the other side. “Car shouldn’t sink.” Henry stumbled to her side, legs equally shaky but eyes hard as he scanned the bramble around them. “Stand up straight, okay?” Henry carefully felt along her neck, carefully gauging the vertebrae. Nancy felt a protest on her tongue, but decided to let him have this reassurance this time as the steely look gradually faded from his eyes and the shaking lessened in his hands. Henry sighing in relief when nothing was out of place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, any idea what that was?” he asked, bravado returning to his voice as he stepped away to survey the car.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy sighed at his easy dismissal of his own anxiety but let it go for now. “A woman? A sheep? A bedsheet?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry sighed, dragging his hands through his ever-growing mane and yanking his ponytail out. “Let me try to move the car, see if it’s still drivable.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Though the engine roared to life, the axel didn’t like the angle it was now out in the ditch. Henry tried furtively to turn it every which way he could, but it wasn’t moving without help.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll call Kyler,” Nancy suggested as she went to find her phone on the passenger side, although she was uncertain herself what help Kyler could offer besides suggesting a tow. When she rounded the side, though, she was met with Henry’s grim expression and half a phone in his hand. “Not good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They both froze as a wail erupted over the thicket, too close for comfort.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What was that…?” asked Nancy to herself, heart thudding inside her chest and blood roaring in her ears.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t think that was a sheep…” Henry whispered, getting back out of the rental to scan their surroundings. “Think it was that…thing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The bedsheet?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Growling bedsheets wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen tonight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Two set to quickly removing their luggage and coats from the car with thudding hearts. Henry locked the car and pocketed the keys, the remains of Nancy’s phone now tucked away in her carry-on. Trying not to think about the possibility of being stalked by something unknown in the thicket, the two set off across the road to the gates. Now that she was closer, Nancy realized the silvery glow she saw earlier must have been whatever it was, not the soft glow of the old gate lights.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The warm brown stone was more reminiscent of an old college than a castle, the entryway grand and open instead of fortified. Though clearly starting to become overgrown, Nancy could still spot some of the old brass décor around the frame.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It looks…too new. Even with the overgrowth.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry cocked his head. “New money? Family falls into fortune, pays to build a castle worthy of their name to live in?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe. I guess I was picturing an older castle.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy’s foot connected with something soft as she walked and her gaze shot down immediately to the mangled bundle of black fabric on the cobblestones beneath. Polished metal glinted, and for a half second she thought it was a fancy napkin ring and napkin set until she was met with button eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The black fabric was deliberate. This was a doll of a groom. And the ring…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Psst. Nance!</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry was kneeling next to a very shaggy sheep a few yards away, suitcases and bags abandoned around him as he scratched and rubbed an obviously happy sheep. Though Nancy had seen Henry dote on Iggy once they both got to know each other, she could see he was happy to experience something fuzzy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His smiled dropped though as he saw what was in her hands, Nancy approaching as the sheep took it’s leave and Henry rose. “That’s, uh…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A voodoo doll?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“God I hope not.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hoping the ring wasn’t who’s she thought it was, they continued to the looming castle in the dark, the walkway sparsely lit and seemingly twice as uneven in the dark. Henry tripped more than once in the chunky heels he was wearing, swearing as he steadied himself each time. Were Kyler and Matt really out here alone? The now clearly ruined castle was darker still, only the faintest of light emitting from the windows and the crumbled stone on one side. Nancy wondered what else Kyler didn’t mention about the castle…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Unsure of how else to announce themselves Nancy knocked, though she wondered how anyone might hear her. Despite her doubts, the door did creak open, though they were met with an aging face and furrowed brows. Definitely not Kyler, definitely not Matt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, I uh…” Nancy sputtered. This was the right castle, right? The absurdity of having possibly arrived at the wrong castle was almost too much at the moment. The man’s frown deepened. “I’m Nancy Drew. We’re here for the wedding?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The weddin’s been called off, so go on back to where you’ve come from,” the man grumbled in a thick Irish brogue, slowly shutting the door. Nancy grabbed the edge, the man’s eyes widening in distaste.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, wait, please! Our car is in a ditch by the gate, we can’t go anywhere.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The man opened the door farther and Nancy jumped back to avoid being struck. Who was this man? Where was Kyler? He held out his hand. “Walk down the road to the inn, then. Give me your keys and I’ll see to your car in the mornin'.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’d like to discuss this with Kyler first, if you don’t mind,” Henry quietly hissed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The old man <em>hmphed</em>. “She’s sleepin’.” The door whooshed shut and Nancy didn’t dare jam her fingers in again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She pulled on the lion knocker, though the door didn’t budge. “No, wait! We came all this way from the states!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I told ya, ya cannot be stayin’ here! Go to the inn, I said. Now off with ya!” came the muffled voice through the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can’t we just come in for a minute?” Nancy called back through the door, her plead met with silence. First a wrecked car, now this? Where was Kyler? Matt? Were they okay? Who was that man? She stepped away from the door to look through the windows hoping to see a glance of Kyler, though the tattered castle lay mostly dark save a window on the next floor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Think Kyler’s up there?” Nancy asked, stepping back as much as she could to see.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry started along the length of the castle. “Possibly, but I don’t think she’ll hear us from here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy eyed the ground for loose pebbles, wondering if the clattering would be enough to alert whoever was upstairs of their presence before the old man returned to check if they'd left. As she picked up a handful to toss, the door opened once more, Nancy quickly hiding her handful of pebbles with a thudding heart. Henry stared at her resigned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tsk tsk. Talking on your cellphone while driving, now throwing rocks at windows? Does Ned know he’s dating a bad girl?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hardy-har,” Nancy deadpanned, dropping the rocks. “How did you get in?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There’s this really convenient castled-sized hole in the side—very drafty. You should check it out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy sighed at her own foolishness of ignoring the very obvious way in to the castle but decided to chalk it up to nerves from crashing. She quietly passed bags to Henry to carry inside the door and off the damp lawn.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn’t kidding about the enormity of the open side. The wrongness of it only grew once she stood inside the door, tattered curtains blowing in the wind and beams dangling precariously from the ceiling. The weirdest part was the lack of rubble, the suddenness of the hole. Cannon fire would have left a mess—this was decidedly a lot less messy and a lot more suspicious. What happened here? <em>When?</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Deaf are ya now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy couldn’t help but jump as they spun to see the old man stomping towards them. “I told ya, ya cannot be stayin’ here!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is it customary in Ireland to leave women who’ve recently been in car accidents outside in the middle of the night?” Henry growled, stepping forward.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“Donal, what are you doing?”</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Missing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a flurry of finding a home for bags and Kyler’s “are you all rights?” after they explained something ran out into the road and cause them to spin out of control. In the renewed energy of Henry meeting Kyler for the first time and the remaining high of the car crash Nancy’s head was spinning. Henry was a bit unsure about seeing all the cots set up in the corner but smiled politely for Kyler. The cots were nowhere near the fireplace as well as in the open, drafty hall that made up the remainder of the ground floor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy was a bit surprised too, the bathroom situation a slightly nicer, modern outhouse and food mainly dry goods that required no refrigeration or boiled on a camp cook stove. They usually ate at the inn down the road, said Kyler, and would be getting ready there on the day of the party—they had no reservations leading up to that day, so camping in the castle it was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>While Nancy liked a good hike or horseback ride herself, she couldn’t help but feel a bit deflated about the castle. Camping was more a Hardy boys’ thing, and maybe Ned if he was feeling adventurous that day, though he usually preferred his outdoor excitement to be dislodging a frisbee Bess got stuck in a tree at most. Nancy would get over the discomfort, she always did, but thought it odd Kyler didn’t mention it beforehand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kyler showed them around what little there was to see, Nancy counting the available cots both folded and unfolded and wondering if Matt’s best man was coming out later. Speaking of, where was Matt? Nancy finally asked as Kyler made them some tea over the camp cookstove in a little library upstairs, the room far warmer with the enclosed space and solid walls. Kyler’s noncommittal response of, “It’s a long story,” was odd but not dangerously so, though it reminded Nancy of the odd doll in her bag. She pulled it out of her messenger bag as Henry returned to the library with a sweater for Nancy and his own long, black and white striped cardigan, hair returned to a small, neat ponytail once more. In the excitement of getting to the castle and the early evening they hadn’t noticed it much, but now with night upon them and the adrenaline dying they agreed it was chilly. Henry’s face grew grim when he saw Nancy was holding the doll once more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Here you are,” said Kyler as she played hostess, setting large Styrofoam cups of steaming tea before them and a Custard Cream biscuit tin. Henry eagerly dove for the cookies, hungry after avoiding the airplane meal when met with air sickness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is Matt making a late run to fix a stain on his suit?” Nancy joked as she blew on her tea, squeezing the hidden doll even tighter as her stomach churned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, right…” said Kyler with a guarded smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, he’s actually not here, at the moment.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy’s stomach dropped and Henry paused mid chew. She felt her thumb brush the ring on the doll, wondering in what cruelty was the mocking doll left behind. Poor Kyler. “Oh…did he have to fly back to London for…something?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m…actually not quite sure where he is, to be perfectly honest,” Kyler answered nervously, rubbing her neck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy squeezed the ring on the doll’s neck to keep from saying something rude about that sorry son of a—“He didn’t even tell you? Kyler, when did this happen? <em>What</em> happened? Did…” she felt rude for asking. “…did you have a fight?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh!” Kyler cover Nancy’s hand that was holding her tea, squeezing gently. “He didn’t <em>leave</em> leave, he just…disappeared.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy suspected maybe she hit her head on the steering wheel after all. “Matt’s <em>disappeared?</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry’s even tone belied the incredulous look on his face. “Ma’am, how is disappearing not the same as up and abandoning your fiancé?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kyler waved away their concerned looks and laughed the questions off, though it felt forced. “He hasn’t disappeared for good. You have to understand, Matt’s a bit of a prankster. And the wedding is still days away.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy had a sneaking suspicion this wasn’t as healthy of a relationship as she once thought, and Henry’s sour looks seemed to match her thoughts. “He disappeared as <em>prank?”</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry looked Kyler dead in the eye. “This is serious, Ms. Mallory.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kyler waved it off again with a weak smile. “I know, saying it out loud does seem a bit off if you don’t know him. Matt adores getting people in a tizzy. I do think he’s pushing the envelope this time but… he’ll show. Mind you it might not be until I’ve started down the aisle, but he’ll show. Saying he just wanted to make this a wedding no one shall ever forget.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy wasn’t sure who wanted to shake Kyler more, herself or Henry. Nancy leaned forward, tea forgotten. “Do you have any idea where Matt disappeared to? When? Did he take anything with him that might indicate where he though to…hide?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kyler’s eyes darted away once more. “No, I don’t… But I know he didn’t go far!” she promised, hand on Nancy’s arm as if to reassure her. “The fact is…sometimes I hear him. You know, his voice? It’s very faint and muffled, but it sounds like he’s calling to me, saying things I can’t quite make out.” <br/><br/></p>
<p>Henry looked more uncomfortable by the second, and Nancy wondered when the last time was Kyler slept at all. This couldn’t possibly be normal—this couldn’t possibly be <em>Kyler’s</em> norm. Why was she not concerned? Why was she not tearing the place apart? Unless…was she happy he was gone? Nancy thought to the doll she found, the eerie button eyes and the ring around it’s neck like a collar. Why would Matt make such a thing? Had there been signs earlier of the growing resentment? Why was Kyler <em>so calm?</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…teasing me, the lout,” Kyler had continued on, an empty reminiscent smile on her smile. “So I know he’s somewhere close by. He’ll be here for the wedding. I’d stake my life on it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry looked ready to throw things.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course, I remember well your penchant for mysteries, so if you want to give this one a go by all means, do.” said Kyler with a cheeky smile, energy renewed in her voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy froze, unsure if she should say or further involve herself in this mess. What was she supposed to do? Matt left a doll at the castle gates with heavy allegories about marriage being a noose around one’s neck, Kyler was possibly in denial about him walking out on her, their car was in a ditch and stuck, and Nancy’s phone was too broken to call for help or a tow or…anything.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or worse yet, what if Matt was playing a prank? What if this was an elaborate joke? How did Kyler not see this was a red flag? Nancy knew Kyler’s parents had passed some time ago, so maybe she never really got a good long look at a positive relationship… Nancy thought back to the invitation and the ask to be a maid of honor after all these years. Kyler wasn’t exactly the best at making new friends, that much Nancy had witnessed firsthand, but to have no other family or in-laws or friends she could ask after all this time? Maybe Kyler really didn’t know any better, as much as Nancy didn’t want to believe that possible.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She couldn’t help but feel…pity. “Um, sure, I can try.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kyler took Nancy’s hand. “Find him, Nancy. My maid of honor ruing this silly vanishing trick of his would teach him a lesson he sorely needs.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll do my best…” Oh Henry was hard side-eyeing Nancy now. She didn’t doubt he would have a lot to say as soon as Kyler was out of earshot. Southern hospitality and politeness was the only thing sparing Nancy at the moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know, you start in the nursey! It’s down the hall. That’s where Matt had set up his cot and was spending most of his time.” All right, so that answered the number of cots downstairs. Sort of.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kyler…is there anyone else here? Have you been by yourself all this time?” Surely the best man would have had some words to say about all this if he was here?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Actually, Matt’s best friend, Kit Foley, is here too. He set up a cot in the great hall downstairs.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Okay, that was another cot filled. Didn’t explain the final empty one, though, nor why he wasn’t up here arguing they look for Matt too, unless…he wasn’t in on it, was he? Nancy didn’t see any other people besides the elderly man at the door she heard Kyler call Donal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kyler and Matt need new friends. And couples counseling. At a minimum. “Oh. Is he from London too?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He lives in London now, yes, but both his parents are Irish. You could practically hear Donal’s ears perk up when he heard that,” said Kyler, eyes rolling and smile wry like they were gossiping over coffee instead of hammering out the fact the <em>groom was missing</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ma’am, was that the elderly, er, gentleman, at the door?” Henry asked hesitantly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kyler nodded. “Donal Delany. The caretaker. Not Donald mind you, there’s no D at the end, so it’s pronounced Donal. That’s the way you’re supposed to spell it—that’s to say that’s the way the Irish spell it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy sighed. “Proud of his heritage, huh?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Indeed. Which would be tolerable if his love for the Irish wasn’t accompanied by an abiding distaste for the British.” Wait, what? “Now, he rather likes me, but that’s only because he considers me to be Irish since I’m directly related to the man who used to own this place. When it comes to my British fiancée, Donal detests him, which is why he was so quick to tell you that the wedding was off. He <em>wants</em> it to be off. He came right out and said if I am to be married at Castle Malloy it simply must be to an Irishman. Said my marrying a Brit would upset the fairy people or whatever he calls them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay…” Really suspicious, but then again, so was this whole situation thus far. Nancy found herself feeling less and less surprised. Not good. “Where does Mr. Delany live?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kyler shrugged. “All I know is he comes at dawn and leaves at sunset. I can’t fathom what he does all day, but he always seems to be puttering away at something. When he’s not working, he spends most of his time down the road at the Screaming Banshee Inn.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sick name for an inn,” muttered Henry, for once not in total disbelief at the conversation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How long has he been the caretaker?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know that either. A long time, I should say. Seeing as he more or less came with Grandpapa’s estate.” Kyler sighed and looked like an elderly matron dealing with petulant staff she’d know forever. “I should let him go. All he ever talks about are banshees and fairies and leprechauns, and he can be quite obstinate, as you saw at the door. But if Grandpapa saw fit to put up with him all those years, I suppose I can too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy was running out of fingers to count all the things Kyler didn’t apparently know or wasn’t aware of. Why didn’t she ask? Why doesn’t she know what he does? What if there were places around the castle capable of hiding people Kyler didn’t know about? Why didn’t she care?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy rose from her chair, turning in a fake stretch to disguise passing the doll to Henry, who didn’t ask questions and just tucked it into his cardigan pocket with a questioning glance at Nancy. She needed answers. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kyler smiled, expression warm for once. “The five months I spent living with you, your dad and Hannah—and Togo, of course—that was a very happy time for me, Nancy. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am you’re here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Geez… “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you. I am your maid of honor, remember?” answered Nancy lightly, uncomfortable.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I haven’t forgotten,” nodded Kyler, returning to a book that had been left closed on the table.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nancy scooped up her bag and left the room quickly, Henry on her tail. They were scarcely to the staircase before Henry trapped her between his arms against a cold stone wall. His head hung forward in exhaustion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nancy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Henry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This was supposed to be just a visit and a wedding, Nancy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…I know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is really freaking weird, Nancy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, it is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Henry finally looked up. “When were you gonna tell me you only knew her for five months?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I told you she was an exchange student.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“An exchange student with no other family or friends who’s closest relationship besides her fiancé is a woman from a family she barely knew nor kept in touch with. Who’s now holding a wedding at a castle that’s been blown to kingdom come. Which she didn’t tell you about. With a fiancé that’s now missing. That she also didn’t tell you about. With staff she claims she knows next to nothing about. Who hates her fiancé. Who’s missing. And a best friend who quite possibly doesn’t care. Please, please, please tell me you are really concerned about all this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“More than you can imagine…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No heroics, Nancy Drew. If this gets any weirder, we bail.”</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Welcome to Castle Malloy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fun fact: I've seen what a castle looks like after an explosion. The Heidelberg castle (near where I grew up) had a lot of it's gunpowder stored in one particular tower. When the French invaded (again) and set much of the castle on fire (again), the tower went up like a rocket into the sky...then promptly fell over. You can see the fallen tower and where it used to rest. Now every year on the eve of the burning they turn on lights around the castle at night that simulate fire. Kinda a weird flex, but it looks cool as hell at night. Only three books survived the burning of the entire castle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With not exactly anything better to do with their time and at a loss for how to proceed next, the two decided to humor Kyler and look at the nursery.</p><p> </p><p>Henry cautiously opened the door, leaning his head on the door to get a peek inside as he cracked it open further. Nancy almost caught an elbow to the face when he jumped, startled, though he calmed as the source of his fright cawed and flew out the shattered window into the darkness.</p><p> </p><p>Nancy suspected it was a magpie, if the dropped jewels on the floor were any indication.</p><p> </p><p>The nursery was a sad sight. Vines had crept in from the years of disuse, and it was clear no one had bothered with the upkeep if the layers of dust and cobwebs were anything to go by. Unlike the warm library, it was chilly, the sconces on the wall the same impassive white as a hospital room and the fireplace cold and empty.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa…” mumbled Henry, mouth slightly agape as they both took in the room. Nancy patted his arm as she drifted past. “Mr. Simmons actually felt comfortable sleeping here?”</p><p> </p><p>Nancy agreed, it seemingly said a lot about Matt. The child’s bed was made properly, though whether by the owner’s own hands or one of the parents was unclear. The child, a girl, Nancy suspected, had gotten up and never returned to her bed again.</p><p> </p><p>A dollhouse sat beside a vanity, full of little puppets with a handmade quality to them, surprising considering they had the wealth to afford a castle. More curious was the set of instructions that came with the doll house, ordering a placement for the dolls. Who gave their daughter instructions on how to play? While crouched, Nancy peeked under the bed as well in a vain hope she’d find Matt stifling giggles under it, but it was empty over everything but dust.</p><p> </p><p>There was shattered tea set on a little table as well. Were they broken by whatever ruined half of the castle much like some of the windows, or in anger? A chair was knocked over, thrown or otherwise kicked over in a hurry. What had upset the little girl so much? Henry wordlessly righted the chair with a grim expression, setting the few unbroken tea cups back into their proper place.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it hadn’t been the little girl. Maybe it had been the parents, frustrated with their child—or more saddening, upset about an unexpected loss of her perhaps? Nancy realized she knew so little about the former inhabitants—a question to ask soon.</p><p> </p><p>Stranger still was the décor, or lack thereof. No painted walls, no art, no tapestries. Just a chalkboard written on with a heavy hand that read “Evil returns to the evildoer”, and several little cross stitch samplers that read things like “A silent mouth is sweet to hear”. Nancy shuddered imagining the pregnant wife stitching the little samplers with an absent smile on her face, the thought of her unborn child inspiring the dedication to stitch out “See not what you see and hear not what you hear”. Or was her theory about the child correct, and did the parents make all the décor after possibly losing her to illness, angry that they couldn’t keep her alive and punishing themselves?</p><p> </p><p>The least startling thing was the lack of Matt’s luggage.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure what’s creepier—the demotivational cross stitch work or the fact Mr. Simmons felt right at home in a dead girl’s bedroom,” muttered Henry as he wandered to the fireplace.</p><p> </p><p>“No kidding,” said Nancy, picking up a small book on the dusty vanity that read in French <em>The Blue Rabbit</em>. Almost as an afterthought, random letters were glued to the front of the book. Why?</p><p> </p><p>“Hey Nance,” said Henry from across the room. Nancy turned to find Henry rising from the fireplace with a pair of broken glasses.</p><p> </p><p>She couldn’t help herself, even in the eeriness of the room. “Do you always dig through other people’s fireplaces?”</p><p> </p><p>Oh the look he gave her. Southern manners were definitely all that was sparing her a tongue lashing. It was worth it, though—what other bad habits of hers had Henry picked up? Henry gestured with the broken glasses. “You have zero room to talk.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just let me enjoy the irony a moment more,” she grinned, though it fell as she carefully handled the glasses. They looked like they’d seen a fight—or a heavy foot.</p><p> </p><p>“Does Mr. Simmons wear glasses?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think so,” answered Nancy, “Though it’s been a while since I’ve seen a photo of him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is there anything else you don’t know about these people, Nancy? Prior convictions? Prison time? Is Mr. Simmons on a registry?”</p><p> </p><p>Nancy wrinkled nose at the thought Matt might have had a more sordid past than she realized. “My past invitations to weddings with distant people don’t usually end up like this, Henry, forgive me for being caught off guard. Besides, maybe he likes to sleep where it’s cold.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve know my share of macabre fans, Nan, and every single one that was into weird dolls and stuff involving dead kids always ended up on the 5 PM news.”  Henry moved Nancy’s hands up towards the sconce, squinting at the mess in her hands. “So, a fight? Or intentional?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hard to say, since we don’t know yet what Matt’s last interaction with everyone was. Missing luggage and groom would probably indicate that Matt got cold feet, but a person with poor eyesight doesn’t leave behind his glasses unless they have a back-up, and even then... So either he was in a fight that spurned him leaving in a fit of anger, blind or not, there was a struggle and everyone is lying about his disappearance, or it was meant to look intentional as part of the prank…”</p><p> </p><p>Henry sighed while Nancy examined the glasses and fireplace herself. To her right Henry picked up the jewel the magpie had dropped, staring at the wall of gems above it and the fading rainbow painted above them. “Any idea what this is supposed to be?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not a clue. It makes about as much sense as the rest of the décor in this room. The dollhouse comes with instructions of all things,” Nancy muttered, taking in the little room once more. She hated to think poorly of the dead, but she suspected there was little love for their child. “Truth speaks even though the tongue were dead,” read another sampler. Nancy felt like this took the idea that children were seen, not heard, to an entirely new level. What was up with this family?</p><p> </p><p>Henry replaced the gem on the wall, eyebrows furrowing as he laid it in place. “It moves.”</p><p> </p><p>Nancy’s heart raced when she saw what he meant, and curiously pressed on some of the other gems. They all moved too, inward like a button. They were too high for a little girl to reach without a stool, but an adult would have no trouble. Question was, why have buttons on a wall in a child’s room that the child couldn’t use themselves? There probably was an order to pressing them that would reveal a purpose, but the magpie took some of the buttons. She scanned the walls, the familiar itch of beating the odds of forbidden knowledge scratching in the back of her mind.</p><p> </p><p>“I doubt we’ll find the remaining pieces if the magpie took them, but maybe later we can fake the buttons and see if this does anything.” Nancy suggested.</p><p> </p><p>As Henry nodded another mysterious wail trilled over the castle, making the two freeze in place.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s that same sound from before…” Nancy whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“Any idea what animal sounds like <em>that?”</em></p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think <em>anything</em> sounds like that…” It was shrill no doubt, but Nancy couldn’t help but hear a raspy, metallic undertone to it, despite the organic feel.</p><p> </p><p>Henry cautiously turned to face the broken window behind him and peeked out, but didn’t react further.</p><p> </p><p>“See anything?”</p><p> </p><p>“No…” he whispered. “Though I think I see a small garden a ways off. Think we should check outside for clues regarding Mr. Simmons too? Check for…I dunno, footprints?”</p><p> </p><p>“Couldn’t hurt at this point.  Outside of the missing luggage, cot, and these broken glasses, I don’t think we’ll learn anything else about Matt until we ask Kyler more questions—and maybe that best friend she mentioned. This room is pretty empty.”</p><p> </p><p>“If she’s even telling the truth…” Henry mumbled, picking up a small box that had less dust than some of the other things in the room. Nancy wondered if Matt played with it too. It was covered in colorful otters, very out of place considering the rest of the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Looks like a puzzle box,” Nancy noted excitedly as Henry gave it a tiny shake. Something clattered inside.</p><p> </p><p>He started fussing with it. “Do you think the wailing is part of Mr. Simmons’s supposed prank?”</p><p> </p><p>“Possibly. I can’t even begin to guess what makes that sound, human or otherwise.”</p><p> </p><p>“…do you think he ran out into the road in front of us earlier?”</p><p> </p><p>“Anything is possible at this point. I didn’t exactly expect the castle to be crumbling out or Matt to be the kind of guy who plays cold feet pranks on his fiancé, but here we are.”</p><p> </p><p>Henry fiddled with the otter box some more, Nancy pointing to possible solutions when he got stuck. “Any theories as to what happened here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not a clue. The castle looks too young to have been besieged during Norse or English occupation, but I don’t recall the Irish being hit badly either by bombers during World War Two either.”</p><p> </p><p>“Think Ms. Mallory knows?”</p><p> </p><p>“We can certainly ask.” Nancy pocketed the glasses and counted off with her fingers. “So, Matt may or may not have had a fight with Kyler, Mr. Delany, or possibly his friend, we don’t know. Or he wanted to scare Kyler into thinking he was kidnapped and left behind signs of a struggle as part of his prank. But why the doll?” she asked, fishing it from Henry’s cardigan pocket. “If he had cold feet, why not just leave the ring on a table? Or on Kyler’s cot? And why take his luggage for a prank? Unless he thinks cold feet is good prank?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Simmons isn’t creeped out by sleeping in a dead girl’s room, forgive me if I don’t trust his judgement in the slightest—got it!” Henry opened the puzzle box. He fished out an old gear, face immediately dropping. “Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wonder what that’s for…”</p><p> </p><p>Henry scrunched up his face, lost in thought.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do I keep it? Do I put it back? We don’t know what it’s for.”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean,” shrugged Nancy, “There’s no harm in taking it for now, is there? If we don’t find what it’s for we’ll put it back.”</p><p> </p><p>Henry decided to put it back in the box, lid ajar. “I don’t know why I’m asking you. You carried all my uncle’s false eyes in your purse when you visited.”</p><p> </p><p>“…I gave them back.”</p><p> </p><p>Henry rolled his eyes and ignored her. “So, what do we do? If we don’t find Mr. Simmons? Like, should we even be searching? Ms. Mallory didn’t say how long he’s been gone, but shouldn’t we call the police? Who lets their own fiancé go missing for so long? A day at most, but after that? I hate to speak badly of your friend, Nance, but Ms. Mallory doesn’t exactly look like she cares.”</p><p> </p><p>The itch of the search returned, creepy though the situation was. “Sadly, I doubt the police could do much. Matt isn’t a child but a grown man. Missing luggage and a groom several days before a wedding? They’d see it as cold feet and hang up on us. Even with one pair of mangled glasses.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, fine. Be that as it may, shouldn’t we at least call the rental company about the car?”</p><p> </p><p>Nancy berated herself for the itch of the mystery. This was supposed to be a pleasant sight seeing trip with her friend, not a mystery vacation. “No, you’re right. We need to call. And we need to meet this friend of Matt’s. See who exactly we’re bunking down with before we close our eyes.”</p><p> </p><p>“At this rate, I think I’d rather sleep in the car.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Nancy, splendid timing!” chirped Kyler as Nancy peeked into the library. “I just thought of something you can do for me.”</p><p> </p><p>The crackle of the fire hid Henry’s muttered, “Is she for real?” behind Nancy. She thrust the biscuit tin still on the table his way and mouthed “Shush!” at him.</p><p> </p><p>Kyler smiled. “There’s an old-fashioned printing press downstairs, have you seen it?”</p><p> </p><p>Nancy blinked. No questions about her findings, huh. “Uh, no, we haven’t really looked around down there yet. About Ma—”</p><p> </p><p>“Just go down the stairs and look for the monstrosity with the big wheel and the levers. You can’t miss it. It came with the castle. My great Uncle Brendan had all sorts of gizmos and gadgets and machinery lying around,” Kyler chuckled easily.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay...”</p><p> </p><p>Kyler looked so matter-of-factly. “When I saw the printer, I told Matt why don’t we save a little money and print the programs for the wedding right here? Problem is Matt failed to get them done before he turned into the merry prankster, and since I have the mechanical aptitude of a bacterium…” She had a <em>pretty please?</em> grin on her face, like she hadn’t just said her husband-to-be fled the wedding. “Would you mind finishing the job for me? You’d only have to print three more sheets. The paper, the plates, the ink—it’s all right there.”</p><p> </p><p>Print programs and help find the runaway groom that the bride-to-be wasn’t concerned about. “Oh, uh, sure. Look—”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Nancy. You’re the best.” said Kyler with rather gracious self-importance. She looked prepared to dismiss Nancy and return to her reading. When Nancy didn’t budge, bristling just a bit at the dismissal herself, Kyler’s eyes burned a bit despite her soft smile. “Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>Nancy tried her best not to be short. Kyler asked her to find Matt, why wasn’t she more curious? Nancy definitely was. “If Matt was staying in the nursery, <em>where’s his luggage?”</em></p><p> </p><p>Kyler’s eyes widened slightly at the question as she slowly put her book down, either in shock or apprehension. “Right there by his cot…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not there now,” Henry mumbled through a mouthful of cookies. Nancy belated realized maybe she should take Henry to find an actual meal at the inn Kyler mentioned as an apology. She tried to calm the thudding of her heart that came with the thrill of a search. What a mess he got dragged into—and what a bad friend she was to keep forgetting.</p><p> </p><p>“But it was there. Just last night.” Kyler insisted, book now forgotten. “I remember seeing it when I peeked in to see if he’d finally decided to reappear. At least, I think I saw it last night…” She paused, looking away. “If it’s not there now, perhaps Donal moved it, took to storage or something,” Kyler rushed. “Because I know I saw it after Matt went missing. So it’s around here somewhere. Just like he’s around here somewhere, I’m sure of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Nancy was even less sure now if her trembling was denial or guilt. “If you say so…” She fished out the crushed glasses. “Are these Matt’s?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyler’s face paled but she nodded, gingerly taking them from Nancy’s hand and turning them about like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Matt is too afraid to get eye surgery, so he’s been wearing strong prescription glasses since he was a kid.”</p><p> </p><p>“Henry found them in the fireplace. Did Matt bring a back-up pair?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyler took a second to answer, still stunned. “What? Oh, yes, he always packs a second pair, even to just go to work. His is eyesight is truly atrocious. I warned him that he should have gotten contacts to prevent this from happening…” She trailed off, fingers trembling as she held the glasses before she put them down on the table and clenched her hands into fists to stop the shaking. “He probably stepped on them again and didn’t mention it so I didn’t worry about the cost of replacing them while we were preparing for the wedding,” she offered curtly, trying very hard to squash the undertone of panic in her voice.</p><p> </p><p>She returned to her book, crossing her leg and huffing, “He and I will have to have a few words about hiding things he’s broken, the lout.” It looked so awkwardly staged that Nancy finally acquiesced and quit her interrogation for the meantime. The confirmation that Matt’s things were gone seemed to have finally set her on edge, though for better or for worse remained to be seen.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you have a phone I could borrow? We want to call the rental company real quick about the car, and mine got kaput when we swerved on the road.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyler for once looked genuinely remorseful. “You’ll have to use the one down the road at the inn, I’m afraid. My cell phone gets absolutely no reception here. Actually,” Kyler perked up. “You can give the best man a call too. Alan Paine? He may have seen something while he was here that could help you find Matt.” Kyler rattled off the numbers, Nancy scribbling them on Henry’s offered hand with a pen Kyler offered. Henry’s travel to-do list, faded from washings, was scribbled in his delicate handwriting up his arm. Nancy made a mental note to get the young man a proper pocket book.</p><p> </p><p>“If Kit is Matt’s best friend, why isn’t Kit the best man?” Nancy asked.</p><p> </p><p>Kyler shrugged. “Matt said that’s the way Kit wanted it. He got here early too. But when Matt vanished, Alan was certain that Matt was playing a joke and refused to be the butt of it. So he went back to London, saying he’ll only reappear when Matt does, and not a moment before.”</p><p> </p><p>Nancy frowned at the all the possible implications of such a relationship dynamic but didn’t press further. “Is he a freelance writer as well?”</p><p> </p><p>“He works in the marketing department for Sailing Today. He and Matt collaborated enough times they got to each other.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah.”</p><p> </p><p>Nancy took in the warm library around them, Kyler returning to her book. In better circumstances she might have been tempted to sit up here with Kyler and read herself, but the accident and the disappearance had dashed any hopes of this being a peaceful visit. Henry sat down to relace his boots for the trek outside and Nancy took a moment to scan the room.</p><p> </p><p>The cosy room had shelves lining one wall, odds and ends stacked on top of some of the books. An odd assortment of medieval equipment like spears and shields decorated the room, though Nancy couldn’t fathom why with the castle’s relative newness. Collector’s items perhaps? Maybe that’s what all their money went towards instead of things for their daughter’s room. A knight’s helmet sat solemnly on it’s own little shelf, shine dull from dust. A little drawer sat beneath it and Nancy couldn’t help but give it a quick, curious tug, only to be surprised by the sound of gears sliding around. They bore a similar appearance to the gear in the otter box, and Nancy made a mental note to retrieve it later. <em>Take that, Henry!</em></p><p> </p><p>A desk at the very end contained mostly odds and ends, to include a three pan scale and an assortment of weights scattered about. The symbols looked vaguely alchemic in nature, and a quick perusal of the desk revealed a legend for the scale and the symbols. She was correct. But some of the weights were missing, and Nancy didn’t bother to scrounge the desk for any more when it didn’t reveal any hints about Matt. A frame leaning against the wall had a breakdown of binary. A scientist, or at least a science hobbyist, no doubt worked here, but what use did a scientist have for a castle?</p><p> </p><p>She turned to leave, not wanting to dally much longer and passed a second door in the room. She had an inkling it wouldn’t lead to anywhere, and she found herself correct when a quick peak revealed a lack of floor and walls past the entrance. Henry joined her at the door and whistled at the drop off. She glanced to the back of Kyler’s head, unable to stop herself from asking. “Did you know when you decided to hold your wedding here that the place was pretty much…rubble?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyler perked up considerably at the non-Matt question, turning in her chair. “Oh yes! Mind you, I didn’t even know that Castle Malloy existed until Grandpapa died and I was notified that I inherited it. At which point the executor of his estate sent me pictures and assured me that despite its appearance, it was in fact habitable.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bullsh—<em>oof</em>.” Henry winced when Nancy elbowed him.</p><p> </p><p>“…when was the last time someone lived here?”she asked. Based on the lack of amenities available and electricity—not to mention the cobwebs—she wouldn’t be surprised if Kyler was the first in years.</p><p> </p><p>“From what I was told, no one’s lived here since the explosion.”</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p> </p><p>“What kind of explosion?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyler got a cheeky, conspiratorial look on her face and lowered her voice to a whisper like she was telling a ghost story. “One summer night—in 1944—this place—or at least half of it—just suddenly blew up.” The awe in her voice was palatable. “It was rumored that my great uncle Brendan—the man who owned this castle originally?—was working on something that involved a new kind of rocket fuel. He was killed alongside his wife and young daughter. Apparently, they all just…vaporized.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Which I guess is why Donal claims the nursery, where the little girl spent most of her time, is haunted…”</p>
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